Calypso - S. G. Ricketts (reading an ebook TXT) 📗

stared at the blatant sabotage, furious. She could hardly think past the anger. Was this their new tactic? Were they really that spineless? After years of chasing and shooting at her, they settled for tweaking strings and smashing sticks?

She heard a faint noise in the brush behind her and spun around, rocks crunching beneath her sudden movement. Her bow was in her hand with an arrow flying before she could think. She grabbed another one. No black-skinned monkeys were going to mess with her. They hadn’t bothered her for months but this was too much. She notched another arrow and watched the bushes. The needle tip quivered slightly in front of her and she fought down the warnings in her head. She was exhausted with always trying so hard to survive only to have this happen. What had she done wrong other than breathe? Years of careful hunting and delicate harvesting were rewarded by this? There was no movement among the trees and she slowly lowered her bow. “Bastards,” she muttered, turning back to the smashed cage. “Dammit!” she cursed, kicking stones into the rushing water. “Can’t even face me!” Her voice carried, scattering a few smaller birds. “Whatever…” Blistered fingers spun the arrow expertly once, then slipped it back into the quiver. She gave the trees another glance before sinking back into a crouch before the trap. She sighed. This would take hours to fix and dawn wasn’t far off. THunder rumbled and lightning lit up the sky. Kira shook her head and stood. There was so much to do and so little time. The wind lifted the hair off her neck and she shivered. Fruit would be her only reward tonight.

Someone cleared his throat.Slowly Kira turned. Had her abuser finally shown his face? The arrow whispered against the wood and she searched the trees. He leaned against one of the massive winged beasts, watching her. She couldn’t quite see him in the shadows. The beast snorted, huge eyes narrowed. Its wings rustled and it hissed. Slowly, she pulled her gaze away from the gryphon. The arrow followed her stare and he snorted. She watched him carefully, waiting. He licked his lips and smiled slightly. Pointed fangs glinted in the light. “You called?”

His voice was soft, melodic, and thick with sarcasm. Kira stared. He spoke English with a accent unlike anything she had heard before. Still, it was definitely English. Her ears soaked up every syllable. Kira blinked, too surprised to speak. The beast tossed its head and snorted, fine lavender-blue fur rippling with the motion. The gryphon was easily larger than anything she’d imagined. The man only came to its shoulder with the beast sitting. It said something to the other in a strange fluid language, and the man’s face twitched with faint amusement. “You have something to say? You shot at us. What is it?”

Her anger slowly worked through her veins and brought her back to herself. He made it sound like she had summoned him. She stepped forward, then stopped. Was hunger worth this? And how could she be sure he was her saboteur? Her thumb traced whorls on her bow, still held down. She wasn’t about to rise to his bait. He had come to her. She wouldn’t be the first to break the silence. The same thought seemed to come to him and his smile faded slightly. The strange, shadowed eyes narrowed and lost some of their amusement. Something caught her eye and she dared look away from him for a second. A slender arrow tipped with thorns twirled between long fingers. Kira blinked, then snorted at the stupidity of it all. Her enemy and he was standing in front of her chatting. How foolish was she to wait for her own death? She took mental inventory of what was around her. The mountain was to her right, just far enough to be a nuisance. She hated the thought of running. Her thumb moved against the wood, waiting, weighing the options. With the way he was fingering the arrow tips she wouldn’t have much luck doing any more that pricking him. The beast said something else and it was the man’s turn to snort. “She is afraid,” he said, jerking his head towards her. “You’re a coward, arent’? You are always running, always hiding.”

“I am not.” The words were quiet. She watched him tense against the gryphon’s side. SHe raised the bow and glared at him. She’d been called many things, but coward was not one of them. Heartless, yes. Cold, yes. Coward, no. “I’m not afraid of you.” The beast flexed its wings and she pulled back the bow string. The man grinned wider. She let loose the arrow, relishing the surprise in his eyes as he dodged. It slid soundlessly through his hair. “I am not a coward.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. She was tempted to stay and see if he could back up his threat. Quickly, she pulled out another arrow and raised the bow, watching him. He flipped the arrow again, then slipped a finger under his own bow string. There was a different light in his eyes now and she swallowed nervously. Fighting was tempting with the way she was feeling, but something warned her that she would only end up dead.

Common sense won over the strange urge and she lowered her bow, turned, and ran. Her normal instincts took over and she was again running for her life. Her feet barely touched the ground, pushing off roots and dodging around thorns. She strained to hear their approach, arrow notched and ready. Her ears strained. There was only the silence of the forest and the sound of her fleeing steps. Her toes gripped wood, silent as she fled. She had learned well how to travel in this environment. If only that alone would save her.

The mouth of the mountain engulfed her. The coolness from the depths brushed moist fingertips across her face, the familiar smells of sulfur and dirt comforting. A few yards in, she finally slowed to a stop. Her bow clattered to the ground as she gasped for air, hands on her knees. There wasn’t enough air in the world to soothe her screaming lungs. The night was as silent as it had always been, hiding its children from her. As her breathing slowed, her mind flew through the events of the night. She shook her head and spat. Everything she had practiced had flown out the window the moment she saw him. She leaned her back against the nearest wall and slid down. Whatever had been out there tonight had nothing good in mind for her. She was the final piece that needed to be taken care of, the last one left. She would always be hunted, always followed, until she was dead. Whatever had happened tonight, it wouldn’t happen again. Kira sucked in a deep breath, eyes lingering on the jungle just beyond the mountain. She had enough dried fruit and fish to last her for a week or so. That should be enough time for her world to settle and the natives to go back to their normal murderous ways. She wasn’t used to this chattiness.

Chapter Two

Dawn rose gray and rainy. The storm raged outside and the sky echoed her mind. Kira was angry. Sleeping usually helped her process things, but she was still too wired to sleep. She stood, the hammock swaying behind her. The world stretched before her, bathed in grey mist. She leaned against the wall. Hours had passed but every time she shut her eyes, images of her broken traps burned against her lids. On top of that, she couldn’t get the scene from the river out of her mind. Kira let the mist from the rain coat her face as she thought. It sent shivers across her skin, and she wiped away the beads caught on her lashes. The man was so different from the monsters that had ruined her life. He had seemed almost civilized while the others had been banshees on bats. Everything about last night was wrong. It just didn’t fit. He hadn’t attacked her; instead, he’d waited for her to turn around. Even his dragon hadn’t gone for her. Kira frowned, trying to recall the beast. She didn’t remember much about his mount aside from its size. She groaned and returned to her hammock. “What is this?” She covered her eyes with her hand, trying to clear her mind.

Frustrated, Kira sat up. Pterybirds shrieked at the surf below and the ocean slammed against the rocks. The world was in as much turmoil as she was. Kira rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was going crazy. She couldn’t get his face out of her mind. For once, someone had actually stepped forward. She was so used to the constant paranoia that it was nice to know which direction to look in. He didn’t hide behind trees and come at her from behind or chase her through the forest like it was some kind of game. She frowned. Unless this was a new game. The thought chilled her. Either way, it felt good to get into a fight. Something in her wanted to understand why he was different, but having tea-parties with the crazies wasn’t on her to-do list. She stretched and caught a whiff of herself. “Oh god…” She pulled the shirt way from her chest and wrinkled her nose. It was disgusting, crusted with sweat and dirt and river slime. No, her to-do list for today was cleaning up.

The tunnels wove up and down, narrow and then wide and then narrow again. It was a spider web of darkness that she had long ago memorized. She could sense the slightest breeze or the smallest change in smell. Kira felt like a bat, every sense alive while her eyes remained useless. She took a deep breath, reveling in her freedom. Who thought a mass of caves could be freeing? The ground sloped steadily downward, rough beneath her feet. As she went lower, the sulfur smell grew stronger. The sound of the surf leaked through the rock, pounding out a heartbeat. Just when the sulfur smell grew unbearable, she saw a graying in the floor. Sulfur mingled with salt as she sat at the edge of the hole. Taking a deep breath, she pushed off.

The water swallowed her, its warmth seeping through her clothes and into her skin. Gasping, she came up for air. The cave was full of steam. Hot spring pools dotted the cavern floor. They hissed as waves crashed over them, steam curling and spinning with the wind from outside. Kira swam to the edge of her pool until she could stand. Peeling off her clothes, she flung them against a rock. There was a sliver of left-over soap on the edge. Making a face, she grabbed it and began scrubbing. She’d be lucky if the piece lasted long enough to clean her hair, let alone her body. The soap stung her multitude of scratches and cuts and left